What You Deserved
by Katie.Madison
Summary: Castiel is no longer needed by the Winchester's, in fact, he's all but forgotten by them. Even heaven does not need his help since it's finally running smoothly. Uselessly, our forlorn angel treks around the world. That is, until he gets an unexpected call, his first in an entire year. Michael assigns him the most peculiar mission... (Multi-fandom Crossover)
1. Radiance

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Supernatural (or any other published work referenced)_

_**A/N: **This fic is a cross-over between several fandoms. Although, I have written everything in Castiel's point of view so it is not necessary to know the other fandoms beforehand. You can learn them with Castiel.  
_

**_Warnings:_**_ Destiel. DeanXCastiel. _

* * *

**What You Deserved**

Castiel absent-mindedly fiddled with the navy blue tie secured backwards on his crinkly white shirt. The tie was stained with blood, tears, sweat and holy oil. t smelt like burnt rubber. He ran his fingers along the length of the cloth, a nervous habit he had acquired while inhabiting his human host body. When he felt a particularly rough spot on the fabric, he looked down and observed it closely. He was feeling the singed tag. It was half burnt and the words were long since rubbed off from multiple washes, but Castiel's keen vision could just make out that it once read,_ "Polyester Blend. Made in Japan."_ He looked back up and kept on fiddling with the tie.

He wandered around for three days, shuffling along the rocky beaches of Vancouver Island. Nobody called for him and he had nothing he needed to do. The world was finally in a state of comfort and peace that no longer required his presence. Heaven had undergone several power struggles and had returned to its normal efficiency. He had been promoted to upper management, so Castiel was only needed for 'problem solving' but nowadays, most problems could be solved by lesser angels.

He sat atop a high cliff, feet dangling childishly before him for another two days. His coat whipped violently from the strong Canadian winds but Castiel sat unaffected, watching the determined tree-birds warm their eggs.

He felt more useless than ever and he did not know why. He used to able to simply observe his Father's creations for months, even _years_ together but now he felt restless and slightly jealous of the busy birds, now preening their hatched young. Habitually, he began re-stroking his tie and felt that rough patch again.

Impulsively, he flew to the first place he could thing of; Japan.

* * *

Many of Japan's inhabitants stared openly at the lost looking white man who had abruptly popped up in the middle of a busy Tokyo bazaar. His dirty, frumpy looking garments made the already awkward man even more conspicuous among the fashion-conscious humans. However, Castiel was Castiel so he took no heed to the extra attention and pushed his way through the crowd until he reached a tea shop.

The elderly waitress covering the floor gave him an odd look and began reciting the little English phrases her boss had taught her to use on foreigners but mid-sentence, the unshaven man raised a hand to silence her. Looking up with impossibly blue eyes, he ordered some green tea in perfect Japanese. The waitress widened her eyes and stared at the seemingly foreign man before her. His accent was perfect, high class even!

Shaking herself, she nodded professionally and returned with the order. Castiel took a sip of the green tea, closed his eyes and massaged his temples. It was no help. The disgruntled angel was seriously considering cutting himself with an angel blade just enough so that he could pass into comfortable unconsciousness and not have to deal with being himself.

* * *

Five days ago marked Dean's one year anniversary. Finally, after unemotionally bed-hopping for more than a decade, and living the hunter's lifestyle for two decades before that, the infamous one-night-stand-man had settled down with a sweet, all-American girl.

Her name was Christina Kinsley, (now Christine Winchester) and she managed an antiques' store on the corner of Sam's old law firm. She had long bright red hair, almost like his sister Anna, enchanting hazel eyes that lit up every time she laughed and beauty pageant-worthy good looks. The girl was not however, just a pretty face as so many of Dean's previous women were; she was actually quite personable and vivacious. With an explosive, fiery personality, she was able to match Dean; word for word, flirtatious wink for flirtatious wink and Western-movie reference for Western-movie reference.

They truly were 'the same soul in two bodies,' just like his brother Gabriel had commented.

That day, Chrissy looked _especially_ radiant in a sexy, but tasteful, off-the-shoulder yellow sundress at the backyard party the Winchesters had organized. She wore no make-up but managed to look better than everyone else, perfection in every photo taken.

Although, this was no surprise to Castiel since he had read that human females looked exceptionally better when they were bearing children, a fact they had announced after Chrissy politely declined joining them for drinks.

Needing a distraction from the memories, Castiel quickly downed the rest of the hot liquid, laid a few crumpled notes on the table and left.

He was aimlessly wandering around Mt. Fuji when he felt a distant, but achingly familiar tug.

Someone was calling him.


	2. Heaven's Victims

**What You Deserved**

Immediately, Castiel flew to whoever called him, far too hyper, anxious and worried to think straight or figure out _who_ was actually calling him. He flew much faster than normal and arrived beside the caller, even before the individual had finished their message.

"Ah! I heard you're one of the faster ones, but oh Father! I hadn't even thought out your full name, and you're already here!" cried the caller. Castiel turned to his left to find a short, formally dressed, brown haired man in his fifties, huddled under a desk. It was most likely a co-ordination angel judging by his expensive suit and the fact that they were in an office. Much to the elder angels' chagrin, the human system of handling paper-work and business was much more effective than their own, so the records section of heaven was re-done to resemble the interior of a human company.

Castiel leaned over and reached out his hand. Puzzled, the older angel grabbed it with both hands and remained seated. Castiel gave a small smile and began to pull the confused man up.

He remembered that the concept of helping someone off of the floor was a very human one, as most angels have never even touched solid ground, let alone fall on it. He remembered his own confusion when Sam had tried to help him in this manner, extending his gigantic palm outwards, looking like he wanted something from the angel. He recalled tilting his head as Dean laughed so hard that he doubled over and ended up rolling on the floor beside Castiel who became even more confused than before. Sam had awkwardly run his outstretched hand through his long hair instead, smiled sheepishly, and walked away to the soundtrack of Dean's uninhibited cackling.

* * *

As the man pulled himself up with the support, Castiel scowled and shook the memories out of his head. He waited patiently as the shorter male re-adjusted his red tie and expensive-looking silver cuff links, oddly reminding him of the former King of Hell, Crowley with his stature and style.

However, the man laughed good-naturedly and grinned upon straightening up, "My name is Raziel, good to meet you." He sounded nothing like the smooth-talking cross-roads specialist. In a peculiar way, Castiel almost missed Crowley and his antics.

"You must be the ever-elusive Castiel," he added and walked around a corner, motioning for Castiel to follow, "Tell me, how did you increase your speed and intuition so much? I had barely even said Cas!"

"Actually, the humans I was assigned to work with often called me Cas, so I became accustomed to answering to it."

"A pet-name?"

"...One could say that."

"They gave you a _pet _name?"

"...You know how it is with humans," he answered, voice devoid of emotion.

"But an angel is not a pet, Castiel," Raziel said, rather condescendingly.

He chuckled, "You may be the heaven-famous Castiel, but there is still much for you to learn. Don't worry cherub, you'll learn with the millennia that angels must be respected by humans, even if we love them unconditionally."

Castiel did not reply to that. "Why did you call me, Raziel?"

"You and I have a meeting with Michael."

"Why?

"He has some... tasks for you to complete in the human world."

"I thought upper management was not required to complete field-work-based tasks."

"Usually, they do not. However, Michael insists that _you _are the best suited to the work he needs completed."

Castiel could only think of the worst possible scenario; having to be Dean's unborn child's guardian angel. He cringed visibly at the thought.

"Don't worry! It would _not_ be Winchester-sitting as your previous mission was," clarified Raziel, as if reading his thoughts, "Although it seems as you did not mind it that much." Raziel paused to give a Castiel an evil grin but it was lost on Castiel. The black-haired angel was too busy looking relieved. It would have been excruciatingly painful if that were the case. He might have even needed to decline the work and risk Michael's very powerful wrath instead.

_'What if the child, even by some tiny possibility, managed to inherit Dean's green eyes?_' Castiel shuddered and focused, he was _not _baby-sitting the unborn Winchester, so why should he be thinking about him?

"Well then, what is my assignment?"

* * *

"Raziel, the approved documents are with Samael, thank you for bringing Castiel," said another, deeper voice. The addressed angel turned around, nodded and took off. Castiel's movements were slower, lethargic even, as he unwillingly turned to face his oldest brother.

"Castiel, you have proved yourself in ways beyond even the most talented of archangels, managing to bridge the distance between us and the other species. Heaven thanks you."

Castiel nodded, body tense since Michael had never spoken such praise before. He realized he was being assigned something immensely difficult and dangerous if _Michael _was buttering _him_ up for a task he was almost forced to take on in the first place.

"That is why you are heaven's best choice for this _very_ important mission," he added.

Castiel nodded once more, this time the action was shorter and showed none of the indifference he was known for. He was genuinely anxious now.

"You are to bring back to life those whom heaven has gravely wronged, re-habilitate them and re-integrate them into modern day, mainstream society."

Castiel almost smiled. That was _it? _Re-incarnating these people would be easy, he probably had more practice with it than an angel twice his age. Also, with the new social skills he had learned, the re-integration should not be so difficult, although, Castiel believed that there were more 'personable' angels Michael could have used.

He nodded one last time, lips upturned with how ridiculous he had been. There were other equally important humans in this world. Surely, every human being he would have to meet would not be-

"You will utilize the Winchesters, of course! The brothers will be able to help the newly saved with their transition and help them understand the epiphanies they are sure to be having, while offering empathy and support." Michael waved and turned to take off, throwing his last sentence over his shoulder. "Ask Gabriel for the full list of what he's calling 'Heaven's Victims'."


	3. Oddest of Odd

**What You Deserved**

"Gabriel. I need you," announced Castiel, coming around the hallway that led to his older brother's over-the-top bedroom. The youngest arch-angel was sitting cross-legged on his huge, bright pink bed, accompanied by two beautiful women flanking him on both sides. They were somehow giggling, feeding him chocolates and stripping him at the same time.

Castiel tried to focus on a painting above the headboard.

"Well, Cassie darling, I'm right here aren't I? Join our party! And I'll make sure you get what you need," teased Gabriel, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at the dark-haired angel. Castiel remained unfazed.

"Gabriel, I need Heaven's Victims," he clarified.

"Well, we can bring them too, kinky-bear! This bed is big enough for all of us, eh ladies?" The two ladies giggled a bit more and continued feeding, not only him now, but also each other.

"Gabriel," said Castiel, shifting his feet, "That is not what I meant, and you know that. I need the _list _of Heaven's Victims. I presume Michael told you that it was my duty to help them?"

"Help can mean many different things, kid."

"...Really, Gabriel?" deadpanned Castiel, raising an eyebrow.

Gabriel paused mid-chew. He had no idea if his younger brother was actually using sarcasm or just monotone-ing his way through life again. He sighed.

"Kayz, we didn't want you anyway, you socially awkward penguin. You can find the list on that dresser there."

Castiel quickly found and pocketed the list. With one last nod at his brother and his 'women', he swept out of the room to fly back to heaven, completely oblivious to how intimidating and attractive he looked with his trench-coat billowing out after him.

"Tch, Dean-o doesn't know what he's missing," mumbled Gabriel, before his attention was, diverted elsewhere by some not so much sweet, as _lemony_ treats.

* * *

Castiel returned to Japan, taking residence atop a mountain dwelling that oversaw a small courtyard filled with playing schoolchildren. He observed them for a bit, analyzing how at even such an early age things like character, personality, and morals were already so developed in the human youth. However, a faraway bell soon rang and the children returned to class (except a few rebellious stragglers who leaped up into the trees instead), leaving Castiel with nothing to do but examine the list he had been given along with the short biography written underneath.

He merely glanced over the names and the character descriptions, since they never really said much about a person's true identity, and instead focused on the faces.

He studied the first photo. It was a simple shot taken in front of a dark green background with silver trimmings. It featured a tall, skinny man with pale, almost grey skin. He had long, black hair that hung in straight, shiny curtains around his face, almost completely obscuring his calculating black eyes. He appeared to be around forty years old, maybe slightly younger but his facial expression made him seem older. It was somehow both jaded and anxious, as though he was never at ease, but indifferent about life, all at the same time. He had his arms folded and drawn close to his chest, denoting a strong introverted personality, deep insecurities or both. The man's clothes were old-fashioned by human standards, something that would have been worn maybe a hundred years ago; however, the garments were well taken care of, the cloth an even, pure, inky black.

Castiel could not help be intrigued by the mysterious character. He spent the better part of a week simply _staring_ at the man and gathering more information about him. He went through heaven's records and began to observe every place and person the man had ever come in contact with. Castiel was determined to discover what heaven had done to him that was bad enough to make him so _damaged.._.

* * *

Three weeks into his investigation, Castiel realized something.

The angel was standing in the dead center of a busy human street, head tilted subconsciously to the left, watching. He watched, as only the oddest of the oddly dressed, seemed to locate and enter an inn that nobody else seemed to even acknowledge.

Castiel had been standing in front of this establishment for two days straight and had seen many go in, but only five percent or so, come out, plus an assortment of others who had not entered in the last sixty hours.

Something _very_ strange was going on in the little inn that was the only address recorded for this 'Victim's' mother and the man himself.

Castiel shook his head and flew back to heaven. He knew that heaven had been in hierarchical chaos over the past century or so, but they could not have let the records become _this_ poorly maintained. He checked to see if there was another address but apart from the various residences his father had lived in during his youth, (which were useless) there was nothing. He had examined what remained of his childhood home, but the structure was burned down beyond repair.

It was as though this man just did not exist for twenty years! Castiel knew that whatever great injustice Heaven did to him must have be related to the events that took place during those years so he knew he_ had_ to get into the inn and investigate for himself.

However, the patrons seemed incredibly close-knit, not the type to just let anyone walk him. He needed a plan...


	4. Memorial Wings

**What You Deserved**

The name of the inn was _The Leaky Cauldron. _Why one would want to advertise the fact that their cauldron is leaky, was beyond Castiel, but at this point in his much too long life, he had realized that with humans, it was better to just go with it. At the current moment, the angel was following a middle aged women and a boy of about eleven years old. They had just vacated the previously mentioned, strange inn.

"Aunty Jessica, how come Jamie couldn't come with us? It was really nice in there!" complained the young boy, almost running to keep up with the much taller adult. He had a bit of a local Scottish accent and lovely red hair. Castiel wondered if this was some sort of cosmic joke. His sister Anna, whom he had admired for over a hundred years and ended up trying to kill him, had red hair, Christine, the woman whom had stolen Dean away from him, had fire red hair, and now, _everyone_ he seemed to meet, had gorgeous red hair.

Castiel briefly wondered how his vessel would look with red hair, before scolding himself. All of father's creations were beautiful as they were; there was no need to alter them.

"Because Timothy, Jamie cannot see the inn!" exclaimed the also red-haired woman.

"But what do you mean, aunty, it's right there!"

"Well sweetie, wizards and witches have different perceptive abilities. Your eyes require a slight bit of magic to be able to see _The Leaky Cauldron, _and Jamie, not that it matters of course, simply will not get the same experience out of _Diagon Alley_ as you did! Since he won't be able to feel the energy that you feel or see some of the things that you see!"

* * *

If Castiel was not invisible, he would have looked like quite the sight right then. His mouth was hanging open, and his head was tilted to the side. Not slightly to the side, but almost at a fort-five degree angle. His untended-to black hair grazed his shoulder as he trailed behind the two gingers.

_'Wizards and Witches!' _Castiel could barely wrap his head around it. He had been following these people for two hours and they seemed so normal! The boy loved chocolate, video games and his 'Aunty Jessica's' fresh apple pie. Castiel had not even bothered to analyze the two to see if they were supernatural beings, because it seemed so unlikely! They waved and smiled at passer-byers and wore bright, noticeable colors. All in all, they seemed like good people.

Castiel wondered if Dean and Sam would have hunted them anyway. Then he wondered if he would have helped them... The angel straightened his head and began to frown. This was it, he was going to ask Gabriel to get him sort of angelic-memory represent. But knowing his brother, he would most likely just show up at his house with a bag of cocaine, rum-chocolates and a harem of women.

He instinctively rolled his eyes.

"Hey mama, you think I'd get sorted into Slytherin?" asked the boy, spinning around playfully, "I want to _so _badly!"

"I don't know honey, so does everyone else. I bet that dear old hat is having a hard time sorting you all these days. However, you got a fighting chance, your father was a Slytherin, you know and you have all the cunning-ness and determination he did."

"I know, I know. I feel like he would be proud if I got in, hm? Also, cousin Sammy says the new Slytherin common rooms are to die for!"

"Yes, plus the whole new spell lab is dedicated to him right!"

"Of course. He was the perfect Slytherin. He used all of his brains, bravery and manipulation to achieve exactly what he believed in!"

"I see."

"_The Snape Memorial Wing_, it's got a lovely ring to it, I'm so excited! AAHHH, but being in Ravenclaw would be pretty bad-ass too."

"Timothy! Watch that language."

* * *

Castiel immediately perked up when he heard the name of the man he had been so obsessed with for the past weeks. The angel had figured that he was a wizard when these two said mentioned they were magical as well. It made sense if the man was traced back to the inn that was almost exclusively frequented by 'wizards and witches.' What Castiel did not expect was him being revered as such a_ famous_ one. He had expected him to be some loyal, unsung hero who was unanimously hated by all.

Castiel wondered what could have happened to this guy that was_ so_ bad, that even with all of this respect and admiration, Michael still felt like heaven had screwed him over. Although, he was not really sure if he wanted to know. Technically, as a member of heaven, he had 'allowed' it to happen too.

Shrugging off the thought, he followed the pair home and gave them two hours to settle down and relax. Then he knocked on their door.


	5. Timothy Anderson

**What You Deserved**

"How was shopping at Dragon Alley?" asked Jamie Walker, opening the door for his mom and cousin.

"Fine, son. Could you be a dear and unload bags into the kitchen? My feet are killing me!" requested the middle aged woman, slumping down in the foyer.

Jamie nodded and carried the bags in, minding that he didn't whack the midget hopping around his legs. "Jamie! Jamie! It was _so cool_!" cried the aforementioned midget. "There were all these really cool trinkets and stuff that floated and changed color and sang corny songs! But Auntie only let me buy textbooks for next year's classes at Hogwarts because she's no fun!" he finished, tapering off to a whisper.

"I can hear you, Timothy!"

"Sorry!"

Jamie smiled at his makeshift younger brother. "That's great Timmy. I'm glad you had fun."

"Yeah, me too. But I wish _you _could have come. When I go to Hogwarts, the only person I'm going to know is Sammy and you're _way _cooler than him. I mean, he picks his nose when he thinks I'm not looking! EW!"

The older boy smirked and ruffled the kid's hair, straightening up from unpacking the shopping, "Whatever you say, squirt. Let's go play some X-box while I still have you here." Timmy nodded in wholehearted agreement. He eagerly grabbed the squib's arm and pulled him to the living room, not wanting to waste any time he had with the special older boy.

"I want to play Call of Duty!"

"Timothy!"

"Sorry! How about Halo instead?"

* * *

A couple hours later, the family of three heard a knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" called Jamie, pausing the game and standing up. With Timmy at his heels, he opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked skeptically. The guy on their doorstep looked both homeless and intimidating at the same time. He instinctively placed a hand on his brother.

"My name is Castiel," he said. "And I would like to speak to a Timothy Anderson."

"Oh, are you from Hogwarts?" asked the teen, raising an eyebrow.

"No. I assure you I come from no bacterial skin lesion from any sort of mammal."

"Then who are you?"

"I didn't want to say this straight out, but I am an Angel of the Lord."

"Cool! Do you have a halo?"

"Sh! Timmy."

"I do have a halo, you just can't see it."

"JAMIE, I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHOW TIMOTHY SUCH VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES!" cried Jessica Walker stepping out of the kitchen and into the foyer. "I've bought you like a hund- Jamie, who is this?"

"I don't know. I think he's one of those Jehovah's Witnesses or something."

"...This is taking too long. How about I prove it to you?"

* * *

"So let me get this straight," said Jamie, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Firstly, you are an _angel _with legit wings and a halo and stuff. Secondly, 'Heaven' sent you on a mission to give second chances to people who deserve them. Thirdly, in this mission, the guy you're trying to rescue is a wizard so you have to go to the Wizarding World to get the 'full picture' but the body you are in would be bad for that because it's a muggle like me. Fourthly, that's why you need to take over Timmy's body because his father's family had a particular bloodline that's compatible with yours and he's a wizard."

"Exactly. But before I can do that, I need your permission." Castiel crouched down to Timmy's eye level in a manner that he hoped seemed comforting. "Would you give it to me, Timothy?"

"You'll only be doing it to help the really good people, right?" piped up the little red head.

"Of course."

And before either Jamie or Jessica could get in another word, Timmy said, "Then I accept."

* * *

Castiel promised them that the little boy would be completely safe and that he would return him back to them one week before school started in the United Kingdom, which gave him about four days to work with.

The first thing he decided to do was travel to this 'Hogwarts,' school and find the memorial wing built in honor of the 'Victim'. He entered the '_Leaky Cauldron,' _which actually had no leaks or cauldrons in sight before making his body completely imperceptible. He traveled across '_Diagon Alley'_ and through another Hog-related town taking in the sights and the thrumming beat of magic and harmony.

The angel found himself liking the odd people he saw. His sweeping trench coat would fit in just perfectly with their flowing cloaks.

He came to the edge of the village and had an inkling that he was close. Combining his angelic sight with Timothy's inherent magic, Castiel managed to locate the school.

Upon arrival, the angel was very nearly floored with the scene before him. There were literally hundreds of spells; beautifully and intricately woven together to compliment and trigger each other, stretched far across acres of rolling green hills and beautiful clear waters. Castiel did not realized that there lied such a large concentration of human power any where! He made a mental note to go slap Heaven's 'Human Resources Officer' for never documenting this area.

Focusing on the task at hand, Castiel flew past the wards and zoomed through the building. He did not stop till he reached the 'Snape Memorial Wing.'


	6. Now

**What You Deserved**

The Snape Memorial Wing was not so much of a 'wing' as opposed to an entirely re-done section of Hogwarts. Sheltered behind heavy oak doors stood a magical archway, decorated with the man's full name and an endlessly twisting, embossed snake that languidly slid in between the letters, partially blocking the impressive silver lettering. The archway led into a spacious hallway that branched out to a new laboratory, an elegant library and a room containing magical artifacts that twirled and whirled about in a way that both Timothy and Castiel found enchanting yet simultaneously ominous.

Castiel decided to start his search in the library. He quickly scanned all of the titles and settled on three books. Hogwarts: A History, The Death-Eater Archives and an Encyclopaedia on Potion-makers.

It did not take him long to figure out the man's life story and realize why Michael had so urgently implemented this mission.

Reading between the lines and shifting through much hero-worship and unnecessary accolades, Castiel found himself reading a very tragic biography of a very broken man. As Timothy's soul held back a few dry sobs, Castiel memorized what was necessary.

_Born in the dead of winter, Severus Snape was born to a witch and a muggle – the word wizards and witches in this part used to denote normal humans – making him a 'half-blood.' Snape was subsequently abused by his father for being the aforementioned abomination while his mother chose not to use her magic to protect him or herself. Eventually, Snape was accepted into the school of Hogwarts and quickly soar through the academic ranks with his vast amount of knowledge and drastic philosophical theories shaped by his unfortunate childhood. However, despite his near-prodigious talent, he was a social outcast and recluse, favoring solitude or his only friend and long time unrequited love interest; Lily Potter. Upon her death, he dedicated his entire life to taking care of her son, whose father happened to be a long-time rival of Snape's. His talents included occlumency, chemistry, magical innovations, and English literature. _

Castiel felt the corners of his mouth pull down as he closed his third and final resource book. Severus Snape's story was possibly one of the most depressing things he had ever read.

Or maybe not. Castiel had read explicit accounts of the tortures Hell's demons on innocent souls who had made deals for the purpose of saving dying children from terminal illnesses and compared to their tragedies, Snape's sounded more silly and dramatic than anything. But there was something about him. His passions, his personality, even his relationship with his father all reminded him of the individual he believed himself to be.

Or maybe it was his unrequited love that consumed his very being, controlled his every subsequent thought, action and was too damned _irrevocable_ to turn away and move on from like a rationally-minded individual.

Castiel took the soaring pulse rate pounding with unnaturally high pressure as his body's way of agreeing with that thought.

In a manner that was uncharacteristically sluggish, Castiel ambled back to the bookshelves and re-slotted the texts in their proper spots.

He took his own time in performing his motions.

The journey had been completed easier and earlier than he had anticipated and he had nothing to do afterwards, other than perhaps visiting some of the man's acquaintances and better understanding his character, but that could wait until tomorrow. It already took several days to get the necessary records to revive supernatural beings and that wait time would only be longer for this case because there was so little history on him, regardless of what Michael said. Heaven's re-organization had made it so that not any one archangel could have that much power over the lesser celestial beings.

And Castiel had always appreciated well-maintained libraries such as this one and delighted in spending time in a well-done academic space, inspired by an extraordinary human whose life resembled aspects of his own. As he thought more and more about it, the angel felt a peculiar, sudden onslaught of warmth and camaraderie spread through his being as he realized he felt oddly connected to Snape.

Castiel's subconscious even began forming negative associations with the words 'James' and 'Potter.'

So when a relatively short black-haired man whose face bore resemblance to the aforementioned man came into the room, Castiel resisted the urge to scowl at the handsome man and instead chose to zoom out the door, completely ignoring the faint, lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, or the special edition, 'Defense Against the Dark Arts: Applications in the Central Science of Chemical Potion Engineering – Severus Snape' in his arms.

* * *

Instead, he rushed into Heaven's Operations Department and demanded that his Supernatural Soul Revival Application be made top priority and with his secretary within the next four hours.

The receptionist angel was just about to protest but the Angel of Thursday was already sweeping out the door with his trench coat billowing out behind him. With a light blush on her face, she immediately went about processing his application while attempting to ignore her own mental fantasies involving a certain pair of ocean-blue eyes, a well worn, sexy trench coat and a voice that ironically sounded like sin incarnated.

She shivered on her way to the file room.


	7. Don't Antagonize Me, Dean

_**A/N:** Please enjoy this chapter (and the angsty-Destiel that it contains!) Next chapter will actually have Severus Snape from Harry Potter but his 'portion' will be done in a couple chapters. Please review with any fandom characters who've died a little tragically/unfairly if you think Cas should save them! :P _

_Also, thanks for the support so far. It's surprising (and slightly depressing) how much your support makes my single, overweight, socially awkward, feel loved:)_

* * *

**What You Deserved**

Castiel landed on the Winchester's front door step, in his usual host's body, after dropping Timothy at his shell-shocked aunt's house. The woman had thanked him for returning him safely but Castiel could notice the subtle protective magic crackling through the air from the long wand she gripped tightly in her dress pocket. Her fear, however, was unnecessary. Castiel did not plan on every having anything to do with them ever again. He had run through the history of each person on the list he was given and nobody else seemed to have ever gone missing.

Castiel had decided that he was going to resurrect Snape that very night (and since Michael had commanded him to include Dean and Sam in the process), found that it was only fair to warn them.

Still, it was with weary eyes and stiff limbs that he stood outside the front door. Several years ago, he would have taken the liberty to fly straight to Dean's bedside no matter how late the hour was, but nowadays he didn't.

After all, it was no longer just Dean Winchester's bed and Cas was no longer naive enough to think that people used beds for sleeping and the procreation of children.

Nope, the likelihood of the two beautiful married people having passionate, languid sex for no other purpose than the fact that they were in lo-.

Cas smashed the doorbell and mentally prepared a mental defense against Dean's beautiful green eyes. He was not quite done yet when the door swung open but he did not matter. It was Chrissy who opened the door. And her hazel eyes had nothing on _them_.

The angel lifted the corners of mouth into a forced smile. "Sorry about the late time. I need to speak to Dean. Something urgent," he said. Chrissy blinked but stepped aside to let him in.

"Would you like any tea?" she yawned, adjusting the belt on her robe as the two walked up the stairs to the bedroom. Cas gave her anther one of those smiles but declined. "I shouldn't be too long," he said as she turned the knob. "Wouldn't want to intrude," he mumbled under his breath.

The redhead gave him a strange smile as if to say, '_Yeah, you are intruding but Dean values you so much and I want to respect that and keep him happy_.' The door swung open to reveal a fully dressed Dean, fastening the buckle on his jeans. He gave a sigh and looked up at Cas with bleary eyes.

"I'm ready," he called, shuffling over to the door. He gave his wife a kiss on the cheek before ushering her inside the room. He closed the door behind her and faced Cas, frowning. "Where ya been, man?" he whisper-yelled, moving into Cas's personal space. "You fled off before the end of our anniversary party! Do you even know that Chrissy's pregnant right now? I'm surprised you even know where we live!" he ranted angrily, shouting other useless things at the angel.

He did not even give Cas a _chance_ to respond but that might have been a good thing because at the moment, Cas was on the verge of losing it. '_I knew she was pregnant even before you or she knew that she was pregnant. In fact, I knew when she was pregnant the moment it happened, Dean! I know _everything _about you and I always will! Have you forgotten about our bond Dean? This profound bond that once made you call me your second brother? The bond that made you pray to me and cry to me when Sam was all but dead?" _His thoughts were so loud, he was sure even God could hear him.

However, instead of shouting back at the ex-hunter, the blue-eyed angel closed his eyes and raised a finger to his lips. "Dean," he said menacingly. "I have not come here to listen to your baseless anger and blatant disrespect. Heaven has a job for you. Michael is re-evaluating Heaven's policy and has assigned us to rehabilitate victims of ill-managed humanity and he needs us to re-integrate these victims into society. We start with a man named Severus Snape. I have left a copy of his biography on your desk. Please read it. I will be here tomorrow with him and we will move him to a house and teach him how to live in these times."

Dean's eyes bulged and his mouth hung open but Cas glared at him before he spoke. "This isn't an option, Dean. Make some sort of excuse for your absence. You will be able to visit her when he's better and eventually move back in."

"Sam?" croaked Dean, not sure what else was safe to say with the angry man before him. It had been a while since Castiel had expressed so much _anything_ with him and he found himself paralyzed with his heart beating furiously. How had he managed to even survive being with this guy if he felt like he was going to go into cardiac arrest from just looking at him? Sure, Dean knew that he had been distant (for some reason), but he had expected an apologetic response or some intense eye-communication when they finally spoke.

The angel nodded his response and whipped down the hallway without another word. He bent his knees a little, getting ready for flight but then he decided against it.

He didn't feel comfortable flying in front of Dean anymore.


End file.
